by S. R. Cronin
But if we succeeded …. I still had problems. If I couldn’t lessen Hana’s control over the luskies, my future would be a mess. Even if I stopped Hana, I could end up such a pariah that Janx wanted nothing to do with me. Perhaps all men would want nothing to do with me.
A lot needed to go right before I could consider a second marriage.
Chapter 20. Too Hot for Clothing
I returned to the same inn in Pilk. No musicians played so early in the day, but I got the name of the less expensive place where they stayed. I walked over and they greeted me like an old friend. Once I told them I brought important news, they sent messengers off to summon other singers and luskies in the area. Celestine wouldn’t be among them, unfortunately; friends said she performed over in K’ba.
Some arrived in no time, and they poured afternoon wine while we waited for the rest.
“None for me,” I said, thinking I had no lodging for the night and could ill afford to be wandering around Pilk later feeling the effects of the wine.
“Oh, have some,” a singer with a pretty voice said. “We’ve plenty of room where we stay, you can bed down with us and be on your way in the morning.”
That solved that. I took a small goblet. Some of the musicians began to entertain us until the others arrived, and I realized I was at a party. What a nice change of pace.
Before long we had eight more luskies and over twenty singers in the room; a much larger group than last time. “All the Lions in the neighborhood asked to be included if we met again,” the flute player explained.
The last one to arrive was my teacher, Ewalina. I guessed we weren’t strangers here so I jumped up and hugged her in greeting, happy to be able to acknowledge her and even happier when she hugged me back.
“What’s the plan?” the drummer asked me. I wondered how my offer to set things in motion had morphed into my becoming the de facto leader of our luski rebellion. Well, it had.
“I’ve done two things. First, I sent word to my sister and grandmother that we’ve discovered if three or more luskies work together we can force a person to do things they object to. Hurt or embarrass themselves. Hurt others. I said it was too cumbersome a process to be used in battle, but one on one, with enough time, we could cause more harm than we thought.”
“But we can’t do anything like that!” one luski said.
“Of course not. And we don’t want to. I lied. I told this person, someone high up in the Velka, that Hana knew about our discovery.”
“So you want Velka management to ask her about it?” one singer guessed.
“Yes. Hana will be embarrassed she doesn’t know, and she’ll be upset we haven’t told her. Then, she’ll be frightened of us when she thinks about it, but excited about the potential. She’ll start thinking of ways she can use it. That gives us options, so we decide how we want to play this. Do we deny it’s true and then try to make her paranoid we’ve lied? Or do we insist it is true, and outright threaten her?”
“Good question. If we insist it’s true, she could call our bluff. What then?”
“What’s the other thing you did?” Ewalina asked. She appeared less enthused about my lie than most.
“I dropped a word into a reliable part of the rumor mill that while luskies are moral and caring, our leader Hana is seeking ways to override our instincts and to force us to act in frightening ways. I let it be known how much this bothered all of us.”
“Nice touch. So if she does try to get us to do things we’d rather not, we can blame her.”
“She’d be the right one to blame,” another of the luskies said.
“This second thing you did, Coral? I like it. I think we use it no matter what else we do,” Ewalina said. “It’s time the good people of Ilaria knew luskies are real. Some already know, of course, but most see us like vampires, something imaginary to be feared. We need people to know we don’t live up to the myth, so if this whole Chimera thing makes it obvious who we are, we’ll be better off.”
“Yeah. We’re like vampires without fangs,” one woman said.
“We’re like vampires who merely suck on the body parts of dead animals taken from the butcher.”
“Ick.” Several people said it.
“Okay. Enough with the vampires,” I said. “I’m glad you’re happy with that. I’ll let the rumors run their course.”
“Please do.” I looked up and was surprised to see our lone male luski from Tolo. I’d never seen him without his mask, but I couldn’t mistake his unruly grey hair. “The less people are afraid of us, the less reason we have to be afraid of her.”
“Good point.” The older luski who’d met with us last time spoke. “It’s a sad fact people would rather believe a rumor that frightens them than one that calms them.” She smiled. “Perhaps the touch you added about an evil leader will help perpetuate the story.”
“What story?” The door opened, and Hana walked in. She smiled at the looks of surprise on our faces. “What? I’m from Pilk, and I come here often. Did you think all of you could gather together, and I wouldn’t hear about it?”
No one spoke.
“I seem to have missed the beginning of your discussion. What story are you talking about?”
I could tell even the singers were frightened by her, though she’d never been anything but nice to them.
“Speaking of stories, let me tell you about a strange one I heard,” Hana said. “Some of the top Velka came to me wanting to know more about an amazing discovery you made. They heard small groups of you can exert more influence on an individual than any of you can alone. Is this true?”
We hadn’t quite gotten to the discussion about whether we wanted to confirm or deny this.
“Coral. I understand this story came from you. Joli told me everything; she doesn’t know the meaning of discretion. She said you sought her out in the market, claiming others in Pilk had already filled me in. She said you made the discovery an ank ago when you came to Pilk to speak to your husband, and you ended up partying at a tavern without your baby. Am I right so far?”
I nodded. I couldn’t talk, I was too busy trying to think.
“I assumed it was hogwash. You never come to Pilk. You never leave your baby alone. You don’t go out drinking and you wouldn’t even know how to find the other luskies and singers in our group. So I had to conclude you made up this bizarre story for some nefarious reason of your own.”
I nodded again. I still hadn’t decided how I wanted to respond.
“Then I asked around. Guess what?” she said. “You did come here! An ank ago, without your child. You talked to your husband, and you somehow managed to meet up with singers and other luskies. It made me wonder if the story was true? Probably not, or one of you would have told me. Right? Then I hear you’re meeting again. Maybe to practice, I think. Perhaps you want to get better at this before you surprise me with it? Am I right again?”
Did she honestly believe that? Did she think we wanted to impress her? Did she not understand how much her threats made us hate her? Maybe not.
“You’re right.” I said it at the same time three others did. We’d all reached the same conclusion. This path was our best option, under the circumstances.
“So what are you singers doing here?”
“It turns out a little background music from us makes them even stronger.” The man with the drum improvised. “Doesn’t take much, but music focuses their energy. We hoped to test the effect out more before we got your hopes up.” He gave her a warm smile I could never have managed and she smiled back. Yes, she wanted to hear this.
“I’d love to see a demonstration,” she said.
Pruck.
“We can’t afford to hurt anyone today, so go get any lad from the bar next door and bring him here. I want three of you, and whatever singers you need, to get him to take off his clothes. Strip completely. I think it’s safe to assume that’s not something he wants to do in public. Okay?”
“Good idea.” Ewalina gave me an I�
�ve got this motion with her hand as she made her way out the door. “I’ll grab the first guy I see.”
I gathered together the tall blonde luski and the man from Tolo and gave them a few generic instructions. I had no idea what Ewalina would tell our chap, but I bet it would be something we could work with.
In came a young man, poorly dressed and smelling of brew. I judged him sober enough to stand and speak, but not by much. He looked at me and nodded as though he’d agreed to do something, though he wasn’t sure what.
“Take off your shirt,” I began. “It’s so warm in here. So stuffy.”
“So warm. So warm.” The other two sort of crooned along with me. We’d never tried to work together before, except with the horses of course, so we fell into mimicking what we did with the animals. A couple of the musicians picked up instruments and went for some accompaniment, playing music that must have made them think of heat.
The lad shrugged and took off his shirt.
“Oh, please, your undershirt too. It’s too warm for all those clothes.”
He looked a little self-conscious, probably more so about his body odor than his exposed skin, but he removed his undershirt and dropped it to the floor, as we continued to encourage him to cool off and be comfortable. At this point I was throwing in a little of the timbre and so were the other two. Hana seemed pleased.
“Your shoes. They must hurt your feet.”
“Hurt your feet, hurt your feet,” the woman echoed.
“So help your feet. Take off your shoes,” the man added. Their improvisation improved. Good. We needed this to look real.
The lad removed his shoes; deeming it a fine idea.
Next came the hard part. I doubted this poor man wore anything under his trousers. Would he drop them simply because we asked? Was there any way I could ease his decision?
Ewalina had to have told him something. What?
“Now do as we ask,” I said in a singsong tone. The other two luskies followed my lead.
“Do as we ask. You must do as we ask.”
“You know it’s important.” I went for full-on timbre, trying to find vague words that would key into whatever Ewalina had said. “Do as we ask. Take off your pants.”
“Take off your pants,” they echoed. “Take off your pants,” a dozen singers crooned softly behind them.
This of course was the point where a normal person would look at us and say “Pruck, no. I’m not taking off my pants in a room full of people.”
But the lad was a little drunk, and he was well-lulled by now. More importantly, I believed Ewalina had told him something to make him more cooperative. It didn’t matter what, as long as it left him inclined to do what we asked.
“Take off your pants, take off your pants.” We all said it and sang it again.
He did hesitate, and I watched Hana’s brow begin to furrow. Then he shrugged, untied the drawstring holding up his britches, and dropped them to the floor. He was the proud owner of a fairly good-sized pizzle, which probably worked in our favor. In my limited experience, men who had something to show off were more likely to do so.
A few of the women, and a couple of the men, rewarded him with an appreciative nod. Hana could have cared less if he had two pizzles or none at all. She was just happy to see those pants hit the floor.
Ewalina hurried over to him, helping him pull up his trousers and gather up his things. She probably wanted to get him out the door before he said something awkward.
Hana turned to us.
“Impressive enough. I’ll leave you to your evening of practice. Our next gathering is an ank from tomorrow and we’ll have great fun figuring out how the Lions can use this to be more effective.”
After she left, we made small talk for a while. I think everyone feared she lurked outside, hoping to overhear something. When enough time had passed to make her presence unlikely, Ewalina whispered in my ear.
“I told him he auditioned for a part as an actor in a play about mythical luskies forcing an innocent boy to misbehave. I said the tryouts required him to do whatever absurd thing you asked.”
“So does he think he’s in a play now?”
“No, I told him he didn’t get the part, but I gave him a couple of coins for his trouble. I’m hoping he’ll put them towards more drink and not even remember the evening.
We both laughed.
“If we have to do this again, I doubt we’ll be so lucky.”
“We won’t,” Ewalina said. “It’s why we don’t have a lot of choice. Next time we practice, she gets an ultimatum. We’ll pretend she’s in charge as long as she asks no more of us than what we agreed to do in the beginning. She can take all the credit she wants for our part in the victory, as long as she never identifies us to anyone, and never bothers us once this is over.
Several other luskies were nodding along.
“That works.”
“Works for me, too.”
“And who’s going to tell her this and how?”
“Coral is,” Ewalina said. She held up her hand to stop my objection.
“Your life is pretty much above reproach and not all of us have been so lucky. You’ve no real history as a luski, you get under her skin, and you’re a close relative of the woman she hates most. You’re perfect.”
Everyone seemed to agree, probably because none of them wanted to do it, either.
I could come up with a plan, but I wanted the group to understand my approach.
“Let’s meet at dawn, on the morning of our next practice. Pass the word to everyone who isn’t here.”
“Where?”
I tried to think of something outside of Pilk Central, a place that couldn’t be mistaken.
“Outside the wall they’re building between Gruen and Pilk. Where it meets the forest. It’s easy enough to get there. We won’t have much time, but we’ll finalize everything before we ride over to practice.”
The man from Tolo laughed. “Just seeing us all ride up together is going to scare the scump out of her.”
Ewalina laughed along. “That’ll be the perfect start.”
Chapter 21. An Agreement, At Least for Now
I lived the next ank only half present in my body as I cared for Votto and my home and as I continued teaching the little ones. I had Chessa come home from school and spend a night with me, but even with her I only went through the motions of what she expected.
The other half of me, the important half, rehearsed my upcoming conversation with Hana, searching for the perfect words and the irresistible tone for all I had to say.
My speech needed to leave the luskies able to move forward without fear. My words had to reassure our new allies, the singers, that Hana’s future orders would bring no harm. Most importantly, Hana had to leave believing she’d acted as a smart woman, adapting to a changing scene, and not an ignorant one being played by her own minions.
It had to be flawless. I had to be perfect. Nothing could have scared me more.
I didn’t sleep much the night before, fearing I’d fail to wake as early as I needed. At the first touch of light, I forced my tired body out of bed, gathered up Votto and my things, and rode over to Janx’s farm.
He stirred his fire back to life as I entered, already dressed. He probably hadn’t slept much either. I’d hated to ask this favor of him, but his farm was so much closer than my parents, making it easier for a predawn ride. I couldn’t afford to have Votto with me and fussing on such an important day.
I didn’t stay to talk but hopped back on Nutmeg. I knew she sensed my tension as she broke into a gallop without a touch from me and leapt over the dew-covered grasses as she took me to the Pilk wall.
Several of them greeted me as I rode up.
“We meet this morning to talk about what we do if she balks,” I said. “She probably will. Then we’ve got three choices. Which one we take has to be a group decision.”
There were nods all around. Everyone saw the wisdom in this.
“Choice one:
if she says ‘I don’t believe you people,’ we confess we lied to her and then we do what she wants.”
The chorus of “no’s” was overwhelming.
“Okay. Bad choice. Choice Two: We refuse to do what she wants. I tell her if she harms any of us, we’ll do worse back to her. She can accept our disobedience or make good on one of her threats. I think she’ll do the latter and make an example of me but whoever she picks to destroy, once she does it we have no way of retaliating.”
This option got a lot of shrugs but no enthusiasm.
“Our last choice is to put on a second demonstration.”
“Surely you don’t want to make another poor drunk lad drop his trousers?”
“No, I don’t. And I don’t think it’d work a second time either. We have to make her harm herself. Not seriously, just enough to be humiliating.”
“We can’t do anything like that.”
I’d been giving a lot of thought to exactly what we could and couldn’t do.
“Can you make her scratch her nose?” I asked.
“Of course,” Ewalina answered. “Scratching feels good; most people like to do it. And the suggestion of an itch is so easy that anyone can get another person to scratch.”
“Exactly. So, if we do this right, we’ve got the power of suggestion on our side. We do what she’s been watching us do with the horses, and what she saw us do with the lad. She’s already susceptible to it. We sing and croon and everyone throws in all the timbre they’ve got, getting her to scratch her face. We start slow, but we build up to something uncomfortable. Then I come in with the threat to turn it bloody and leave scars if she doesn’t promise to leave us alone.”
“And at that point, what if she looks at you and says ‘pruck no’?” Ewalina asked. Others nodded in concern.
“Then we go somewhere we don’t want to go. We’ve made sure she’s in the middle of a circle, surrounded by us so she can’t run. I’ll take the lead and I’ll look for any vulnerability. I’ll seek out any uncomfortable thing she wants to do, just a little. Try to make her cry. Lose her temper and shriek. Tear off her shirt. Curl into a ball in fear. I’ll keep going until she does something she thinks she doesn’t want to do but does. I don’t know what it’ll be, but I’ll find it and it’ll scare the scump out of her when I do.”
